


The Robin String Quartet

by GavotteAndGigue



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Bat Brothers, Bat Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jason-Centric, M/M, NO CAPES, Past Child Abuse, Recovered Jason, Romance, Smut, mentions of past rape/non-con, no actual non-con, traumatized Jason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-26 05:00:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12051843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GavotteAndGigue/pseuds/GavotteAndGigue
Summary: The no-capes AU in which the male Robin's are conservatory students who form a classical string quartet.After a traumatic incident that lands Jason in the hospital, Talia adopts Jason and whisks him away, much to Bruce’s despair and ire.  Years later, Dick finds that Jason has returned, as a devastatingly sexy transfer student to the prestigious Gotham Conservatory where Dick and the others are studying.  Can Dick bring Jason back into the fold?  Will Jason reciprocate Dick's growing attraction?  And can Dick bring the so called “Robins" together and fix their relationships in the process?Mentions of the batgirls, and appearance by Cass.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a two-shot story, and it is complete.
> 
> Any other former (or current) orchestra nerds out there? Maybe not… but who knows, there are a multitude of types of fans right? I admit, the premise of this is ridiculous and completely unnecessary, but whatevs. I'm writing it so I get to do what I want :)
> 
> Watch out for explicit Jay/Dick sex scenes! And it is very angsty, because I just can’t get enough of a fucked up and traumatized Jason finding love and getting it on with Dick. And it seems like it's just impossible for me to write a truly lighthearted story. The boys’ ages are definitely compressed for this fic, as well as that of the girls. 
> 
> Background info in case you are not familiar: A standard classical string quartet consists of two violins, a viola, and a cello. While the first violin typically takes the lead and carries the melody, the other instruments play vital roles as well, and depending on the musical piece played, the different instruments will at different times have to lead as well or even have their own solos. The cello often takes on the role of the bass line but can often carry the melody as well. The inner voices are the second violin and viola that fill in notes that are vital to the harmony, but again, they can sometimes lead or take on a solo melody too. A classical string quartet requires all four players to literally work in harmony, and be rhythmically and musically in sync to make the music work, especially with a piece as difficult as the one I chose for the Robins here, the Ravel string quartet. A string quartet is a veritable microcosm of true teamwork.
> 
> Also a note -- it's not entirely uncommon for some violinists to eventually take up or switch to viola. In some professional circles it might be easier to find work because there are fewer violists. Some people make fun that viola is easier, and on some level it may be true (less solo repertoire), but not in others (e.g. mechanics, different role). It's just different, and I know a lot of people who love and prefer the viola to violin.

~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~

 

The early morning grounds of Gotham Conservatory were bustling as students with their various instruments, laptops, and backpacks criss-crossed the main quad in their hustle to get to class.  The Quad was a grassy square of open space between the two L-shaped “Gotham-gothic” style buildings that made up the main of the instrumental instruction department.  It was here that Dick Grayson and his younger brother, Damian, made their way up the steps on their first day of the semester.

“Are you nervous, Little D?”  Dick shifted the case on his shoulder.  He was holding a second case in his hand, but he managed to free a hand to ruffle the thirteen year-old’s hair.

“-Tt-.”  He slapped Dick’s hand away and huffed.  “Of course not.  Why would I be?  I’ve earned my place here.  I am the youngest to ever be admitted, and that only speaks to the caliber of my ability.”

Dick merely arched a brow and smiled.  “You don’t think people will give you a hard time about your dad being the main donor to the school?”

“He’s _your_ father too.”  Damian squared his shoulders and hefted the strap of his violin case a little higher on his shoulder.  He tilted his head slightly higher as he spoke next.  “You have been awarded a full place in the family.”  

He patted Dick’s hand, as if offering reassurance, and Dick felt a little swell of warmth in his heart for the young thirteen year old.  Bruce had adopted Dick at an early age, but Damian had only come to live with them three years ago when his grandfather, the legendary Ra’s al Ghul, had finally passed away.  It left a dearth of power across the al Ghul holdings, and as Talia struggled to establish control, she had also received threats to her son.  Damian had been temporarily sent to Bruce for safety, but he ended up staying.

Bruce had been in the middle of a trillion dollar merger at the time as well, busy jetting back and forth across the globe, and so Dick had opted to live mostly at the manor and commuted back to school.  They had a rocky start, but the kid had really grown on him, and it seemed the feeling had been mutual.  He had started to accept Dick as his brother as well as mentor.

“Besides,” Damian was still talking about his place at the Conservatory, “the auditions were blinded.  They had no way to know father practically funds their paychecks.  I am here on my own merits.”

“I know, Damian,” Dick smiled warmly.  “I’m just speaking from experience.  People will talk, but I know how hard you worked to get here.”

Damian practically beamed, but he tried to bury it under the most menacing scowl the thirteen year old could muster.  “I appreciate you support, Richard,” he said stiffly.

They walked up the steps and under the archway of Kane Hall to their assigned classroom.  They were going to a special chamber seminar -- a coached quartet that Dick had specially arranged with Professor Lance.

As Dick pushed open the door, he was glad to see Tim was already there, setting up their chairs and music stands.

“Dick!  I'm so glad we’re doing chamber group together again!”  Tim said excitedly.  “I learned a lot from you last semester, and --.”  He stopped suddenly when he saw Damian step into the room.

“Why’s _he_ here?”  Tim was shooting daggers at Damian.  Dick knew this was going to a difficult conversation.

“Damian,” Dick nudged him gently back out the door, “can you give Tim and I a minute?”

Damian obliged, with a haughty look on his face, and Dick shut the door.

“Look Tim,” Dick said apologetically, “Damian needs to learn how to play with others.  He’s really good technically, but he’s basically been kicked out of every other chamber group he’s tried.  I want to give him a chance to learn, with people I know who are good, if not better than he is.  And I need him to learn from people who I can trust.”

“So why does it have to be with us?”  Tim pouted.  “We had a pretty good group last semester.”

“I know, but Damian needs this.  And I know how to handle him.”  Dick put a hand on Tim’s shoulder.  “Tim, I want you on viola this time.”

Tim’s face drained of color, his jaw slack and eyes wide.  “You're… you’re _demoting_ me?”

“No no no!”  Dick waved his hands in fluster.  “It's not a demotion!  Not at all!  But I want D to have a chance to play second, and you know that the viola plays its own role, especially in the Ravel we’re playing.  You have a ton of solos.  Plus when you talked to Bruce a couple months ago, you said you wanted to get better at viola.”

Tim had met Bruce when he won the Robin Concerto Competition a couple years before.  It was sponsored by the Wayne Foundation every year, and gave high schoolers the chance to compete for a chance to play a solo with the Gotham Symphony Orchestra.  Dick had won it several years ago too, which caused a fuss because he was the adopted son of the competition sponsor.  But the judging had been blinded, so there wasn't really much his detractors could do.  More recently, Damian had also won the Robin title, and he was slated to perform with the GSO at the end of the year.

Another highlight of winning the title was that Bruce often made it a point to get to know the winners personally, and he had taken a shine to Tim, just like he had before with…. Dick would come back to that in a second.  Right now he needed to resolve this with Tim.

“I knew you wouldn't be happy about this, Tim.  Not at first.” Dick set his cases down, and Tim seemed to suddenly notice that Dick had been carrying two.  “But I want you to know it's not because I think you’re not capable.  You could sit first in any quartet if you wanted.  You’re that good, but I need to work with Damian, and he doesn't play viola. You do, and you want to get better at it. Plus I still want you in my quartet.”

Dick lifted up the second case he had brought and put it in Tim’s hands.  “Bruce wanted you to play this.  Even if you decide you don't want to be in this group anymore, Bruce said you could have it on permanent loan.”

Tim’s face brightened, moving from sullen dejection to eager anticipation in a matter of seconds.  “He didn’t, did he?  He’s letting me play it?”

“Why don't you take a look?”

Tim opened the case, fingers shaking a little as he gingerly picked up the viola.  “It is.  Oh my god!  He’s actually going to let me play the Grancino?”

“Yep.”  Dick felt relieved upon seeing Tim’s unbridled delight.  “He would have lent you the Strad, but you liked this one so much better that time he brought you to the vault.”

“But what about Stephanie?  She was our violist last semester.”  Tim had definitely taken a shine to the ebullient blonde.

“She got assigned to another group.  She's switching back to violin so she can work with Babs.”

“Wait,” Tim furrowed his brow. “Barbara's not going to be our cellist?”

“No.  More on that later,” Dick dismissed.  “For now are we good?”

“I accept your manipulation and your bribe,” Tim smiled.

“Thanks Tim.”  Dick pulled him into a quick hug.  “This really means a lot to me.  Now let's let Damian back in before our cellist gets here.”

Damian re-entered the room, still with a smug look on his face as Tim shifted over so he could take the seat beside Dick.  They were all unpacking and setting up, all a little tense.  Dick had purposefully not mentioned who their cellist was.  Damian already knew.  Tim didn't, but he probably already suspected.  Dick was the one who had begged and cajoled Professor Lance into this arrangement, but he doubted their cellist had been told exactly who his chamber seminar compatriots would be.  Dick wasn’t sure how he would react, but it probably wasn't going to go smoothly.

A figure appeared at the door, and it wasn’t exactly what Dick had expected.  Instead of the gangly underfed teenager he remembered, a tall broad figure nearly filled the door frame.  Leather jacket and boots, cargo pants that hugged him in all the right places, and an intensely serious glare that rivaled Bruce’s own.  He looked strikingly handsome and sexy, and at the same time foul-tempered and mean.  More like a rockstar than a classical cellist.

Jason Todd.  

He had grown up, and Dick swallowed a gulp as an involuntary surge of attraction struck him. The face was the same.  It was certainly him, grown and filled out, but the same sharp features of the awkward teenager had come together into an unexpectedly beautiful, but masculine, package.

“Oh.  Hell.  No.”  Jason’s scowl intensified as he took in the others.

The words jarred Dick out of his awestruck stupor and Jason turned on his heel to leave.

“Jason, wait!”  Dick set his violin down and clambered after him.

“Jason’s our cellist?”  Tim practically squealed at the same time.  

Damian simply sat and looked cross, jaw rigid and stiff.

Dick caught up to Jason in the hall, running in front of him with his arms out to block his path.  “Jason, can we just talk about this a minute before you storm off?”

“There's nothing to talk about,” he spat.  “I am not doing this shit with you and the demon brat.  I don't need chamber seminar this semester.  I'm dropping.  Find another cellist.”

“Come on, Jay.”  Dick pleaded.  “We could catch up.  I haven't seen you since the… since you left.  And then Talia adopted you and you went abroad.  Bruce misses you, and I thought we could….”

“Can it, Dick,” Jason snapped.  “You could barely give me the time of day back then, so I’m not going to pretend you weren't a jackass to me just so you can assuage your guilt.”

Wow.  Dick knew he hadn’t been the most receptive back then… but he hadn’t realized that Jason held a grudge.  When they had met first, it was the first time Dick had left the Manor for a year abroad, and when he came back to visit only a couple months later, Bruce had been extolling praises to some random new kid who had won the Robin competition. Bruce had been thoroughly charmed by the funny, wise-cracking young Jason Todd, so much that he was often over at the manor, or he would hear about how Bruce had taken him out to lunch, or had arranged for special private lessons with the best instructors in Gotham.  Jason had been a foster kid at the time, and was attending Gotham High School for Performing Arts on a Wayne Foundation scholarship.  He had been a little snarky back then too, but not outright hostile.

At the same time, Dick had been increasingly coming to blows with Bruce over his independence, and looking back on it now, Dick recognized his immaturity and jealousy.   He hadn't realized he had also taken it out on Jason.  Bruce had tried to hint at Jason’s situation in an effort to get the boys to get along.  

“Dick,” Bruce had admonished, “Jason would benefit from your understanding.  Even your guidance.  He doesn't have a home, and his caregivers are… I have misgivings about them.”

Dick had blown off Bruce’s suggestion at the time, not knowing he would regret it terribly later on.   A few months later the _incident_ happened.  A fire at the foster home Jason had been staying in revealed accusations of horrible abuse and scandal that hit the papers.  His foster parents, Joe Kerr and Harlene Quinzel, as well as the DA handling the case, Harvey Dent, all ended up in prison.  Jason ended up in the hospital.  

Dick never found out the details, but that was when Talia had re-appeared.  Bruce’s on-again off-again ex-girlfriend.  She hadn't even told Bruce about Damian at that point yet, and Dick had no idea how Jason had even met her, but she swooped in and seemingly whisked Jason away.  Adopting him and taking him out of the country right out from under Bruce’s nose.  Bruce had been bereft and fuming.  Dick found out later he had been filing for custody for Jason himself, but by the time he found out what Talia had done, there was nothing he could do.  Jason was gone.

But now Jason was back.  Dick had found out he was returning, to Gotham Conservatory no less, by sheer chance.  He had overheard Professor Lance talking to the head cello professor, Sandra Wu-San, that she had a new student transferring in from Juilliard specifically to learn from her.  A very special and talented student by the name of Jason Todd.

Dick had pulled every conceivable reason out of his ass to get them grouped together.  He knew he had fucked up with Jason back then, and after the _incident_ the guilt had eaten at him for years.  He wanted a chance to make it right.  He hoped this would work, because eventually, when Bruce found out he would want to see him too.  He hadn't let Bruce in yet on his plan because he wanted to feel Jason out first.  He didn't know what happened after Talia took him in. There was a strange love-hate between Bruce and her, complicated by the fact that Damian preferred to be with his father, but Bruce had also never forgiven her for what she had done with Jason.  She had refused to let Bruce see Jason at all after she had adopted him.

Back in the present, Dick was still blocking Jason’s path.  “Please,” Dick tried to be as open and sincere as he could.  “At least do the read through.  We need a good cellist.  We’re playing Ravel, and I heard you’re one of the best.”

“Um, Jason?”  Tim had followed them out into the hall.  “You don't know me but--.”

“I know who you are,” Jason said tersely.

“You… you do?”  Tim stammered, but quickly collected himself.  “In that case, I’d really like the chance to work with you.  I saw your performance back when you were Robin with the GSO, and it inspired me to try out too.  I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you.”

Jason didn't seem to react the way Tim had hoped.  He seemed livid, though Dick didn’t think it was necessarily directed at Tim.  Jason turned to walk in the other direction. “Sorry kid, not convinced.”

“Jason.”  A severe looking Asian woman suddenly appeared in the hallway.  Professor Wu-San.  Dick hadn’t even seen where she had come from.  She gave Jason a reprimanding look, “Where do you think you are going?”

“I.. um.”  Jason was taller and bigger, but he was way outclassed by the steel in her glare.

“If you are to study with me, you will turn around and attend your seminar.  You are to learn the Ravel.  It is essential to your training.”

Dick was relieved when after a tense several seconds, Jason’s shoulders slumped, and he turned around and marched back into the classroom.   Professor Wu-San followed to stand in the doorway.  “Do your read through.  Professor Lance will coach you at your second rehearsal.”  

Dick blinked, and she was gone.  It was like she was some kind of ninja.

Damian had still been in the room, waiting.  He gave Jason a cold look, before turning his nose up in the air again.  “Mother would be displeased if you proved yourself unworthy of playing with the true blood son.”

“Shut up, demon brat.”  Jason shot back.  “Your mom lets me do what I want.”

“-Tt-.”  Damian didn’t continue to argue.  He merely pulled a stack of music from his bag.  “I have taken the liberty of reviewing your parts, and have included fingerings and bowings.”  He handed the music out to the others.  Dick stifled an amused smile.  Tim and Jason just looked annoyed.  

“You can’t transfer violin technique to cello,” Jason grumbled.

The rest of the read through went pretty much as Dick expected.  Damian had done a pretty good job on the violin parts, but Tim subtly changed his phrasing and adapted the fingerings, and Jason was obviously ignoring everything Damian had outlined out of spite.

“No,” Damian shouted when they got to the second movement.  “Count it in three!  It's in three!”

“No, it's not.  It’s obviously in two,” Jason shouted back.

“It’s in both. That’s the whole point,” Tim interjected.

“Everyone, just follow me in one,” Dick finally intervened.

By the end of the read through, Dick was mentally exhausted.  Jason packed up in a matter of seconds and left. Tim ran after him.  Damian just tutted and said, “imbeciles.”

Yep.  Pretty much went as well as Dick expected.

 

~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~

Jason was warming up to them.  After a few weeks, his death glares were growing more into _I want to punch you in the face_ stares, and at the end of a particularly successful run-through of the finale, where Jason and Tim had especially been locked in on the difficult meter, Jason had actually smiled.

“This is incredible,” Jason exclaimed.  “I can't believe those morons didn't like this when it debuted.”

“Sometimes greatness comes before it's time.”  Damian actually nodded in agreement.

Inside, Dick was doing backflips.  All was going according to plan.  His fellow Robins, for all of them had won the competition at some point, were starting to kinda-sorta get along.  They were learning to take each other's queues, and they were listening almost as much as they were bickering.

Of course, they still had their flare ups, and it usually involved Damian having not quite mastered the art of playing nice with his fellow musicians.

“On the G string, Todd!”  Damian yelled.  “I specifically fingered that passage to play on the G string!”

“Fuck your fingering,” Jason snapped.  “And I am going to fucking strangle you with my G string!”

Tim tried to hide his snigger and Dick just laughed out loud.  Jason realized his unintended innuendo at that, and then stifled his own chortled laugh.

Damian seemed to realize it at that moment too, but he just scowled.  “Get your minds out of the gutter!”  He cradled his violin under his arm and gave a _harumph_.  “And they say _I_ am the child of this group?”

The Robins were the _best quartet ever_ , Dick thought.

The only problem was that Dick was spending more time than he thought he should have looking at Jason, listening to his beautifully emotive solos and locking eyes together when they shared a line.  It made Dick’s heart beat faster every time, so much that he continually flubbed his lines.  Jason would quickly avert his gaze as soon as the phrase ended, and Dick couldn’t tell if the slight flush to his cheeks was from discomfort, embarrassment, or if he was feeling the same spark of heat that Dick could feel building within himself.  He thought there was something there though.  He had caught Jason casting him furtive glances more than once, but he couldn't be sure.

Dick wanted to find opportunities to get to know Jason.  To find out what had happened to him after Talia had taken him in.  And even though they hardly talked, he was growing increasingly enamored with the way Jason would close his eyes during particularly emotive phrases, the way he would try to hide an occasional crooked smile that reminded him of the awkward teenager he used to be, and the way his dark hair looked messy and sexy, the incredible greenish blue of his eyes when sunlight through the windows would just hit him just right, and the way his pants would hug his thighs as he spread his legs to cradle his cello….  Sometimes Dick would leave rehearsal uncomfortably hot and bothered.  

He had to get a hold of himself.  

Either that, or he had to see if Jason was interested.  That was easier said than done, because it seemed like Jason was making a point to avoid him.  Both Jason and Damian kept things all business during rehearsals, and Tim, with all his seriousness, would usually fall in line.

Jason never stuck around for chit-chat after rehearsals either, though Dick had caught him with Tim in casual conversation occasionally around campus or just as he arrived for class.  Dick tried to dig up his schedule, but he didn’t share any other classes with Jason.  They were in different orchestras, and as far as he could tell, Jason didn’t have much of a social circle that Dick could find a way to insert himself into.  He had only ever seen him with one other companion other than Tim, and that was with the mysterious girl he eventually learned was named Cassandra Cain.  

She was a pianist, and Dick had stumbled upon her rehearsing with Jason one day, as he had stayed late at the practice rooms one night trying to work out a particularly tricky passage.  He stepped out into the deserted hallways to hear a haunting melody fill the empty building.  The music vacillated from an almost headbanging mania to agonizing despair, interspersed with moments of hollow levity, and all with a persistent undercurrent of anger and pain.  The Shostakovich Cello Sonata.

He followed it toward one of the smaller stage rooms.  The door had been left open, and Dick peered in to see Jason, and a girl with dark hair at the piano.  Her build was slight, but she played with such ferocity and passion.  They were playing the second movement, and quite simply, she was amazing.  Both of them together, the girl and Jason, were _astounding_.  Dick had never heard anything so heart provoking as he hovered at the threshold in awe.

Then the music suddenly stopped.  Jason had caught sight of Dick standing in the doorway, and the look he saw on Jason’s face, it was that of real pain and sorrow.  The emotion he put into his music… it wasn’t just extrapolation, it was _visceral_.  The girl took one look at Jason, and then at Dick at the door, before she silently got up from the piano bench, walked down the stage stairs, and without saying a word quietly shut the door in Dick’s face.

The music started up again moments later, and Dick was left with nothing to do but retreat.

Dick had inquired about the girl afterward, and it turned out Tim knew her.

“Oh, that’s Cass,” Tim said.  “Remember how you said Steph was working with Babs this semester?  Well they’re in a piano trio with Cass.  She doesn’t talk much, but she doesn’t have to.  She just knows somehow.  Have you heard them?  They’re really good!”

Dick had no doubt about that.  All three of the young women were extremely talented.  And that girl, Cassandra, she was the best pianist he had ever heard.  World class soloist material.  He could tell even from the abridged rehearsal he had eavesdropped on.  And that led his thoughts back to Jason.  Dick was, embarrassingly, becoming a tad obsessed, but he still couldn't find a way to pin him down.  He was having trouble concentrating, his thoughts constantly finding a way back to wondering about Jason.  Daydreaming about him.  Even when they were in rehearsal together.  It was affecting his music, he kept missing queues and faltering in his tempos.  He had to find a way to talk to Jason, or he was going to implode.

Things came to a head however, when a few weeks in, he was finishing breakfast at the Manor dining table with Bruce and Damian, and he inadvertently let slip the secret he had been keeping from Bruce.

“How are rehearsals going?”  Bruce was asking.  “I know you two are playing together,” he nodded at Damian, “but how are Tim and Barbara?”

“Oh, Babs is doing a trio this semester,” Dick said without thinking.  He had been remembering how the other day Jason had breathed in time with him as they played their duet line in the first movement of the Ravel.  It had felt… magical.

“Oh?  Who's your cellist this semester then?”  Bruce probed further.  He knew that Dick and Barbara had a fling in the past.

Dick realized his misstep and glanced at Damian.  He had convinced his younger brother to keep Jason’s presence from Bruce as well, so as not to bring up tensions with his mother, and he was now giving Dick a warning look that he had caught too late.

“Um… no one you know.”  Dick tried to brush it off, but Bruce was extremely discerning. He knew when he was being lied to.

“Oh really?”  Bruce said archly.  “Then it won't matter if you tell me their name.”

Dick just sat there, silent, and so Bruce turned to Damian.

“Need I remind you that I can simply give Dinah a call?”  Bruce would make good on his threats.

“It was Richard’s idea,” Damian finally confessed.

Sell out!  Dick was irked, but he couldn't blame him.  It was futile to lie at this point, not when Bruce had his cell phone ready to make the call.

“It's Jason.”  Dick bowed his head.

“ _Jason?_ ”  Bruce was incredulous.  “ _Our_ Jason?  Jason Todd?”

“Yes?”  Dick said meekly.

Bruce’s face darkened.  “How could you keep this from me?  You _know_ what I went through to try and contact him.”

“I was going to tell you, I swear!”  Dick was ashamed.  Why had he ever thought this was a good idea to keep this from Bruce?  Except, he had known how Bruce would react, but he didn't know how Jason would.  He still didn't really know for sure, but judging by his aversion to Dick he had a feeling Jason would not be receptive to a reunion.

“He’s… he’s different Bruce,” Dick stammered his flimsy reasoning.  “I wanted to make sure it was him first.  And it is, but it isn't.  You know what Talia can be like.  How manipulative she can be.  I wanted to get to know him first.”

“Is he okay?”  Bruce had his fists clenched, his face red with barely contained emotion.

“I honestly don't really know.”  Dick thought about what he knew of Jason, and it was surprisingly little.  “Musically… technically, he's amazing.  He’s great.  But he seems angry all the time.  And underneath it all, I don't know.  I think he’s… sad.”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Bruce shot out of his chair and stood.  “When is your rehearsal?”

“Bruce, I don't think --.”

“ _When_?”  It was said in a tone that brooked no refusal.

Shit.

“We’re meeting this morning.  In an hour.”  Dick’s mind scrambled for a way out of this.  This would be bad.  Jason was already constantly on edge and evasive.  If Bruce showed up at their rehearsal it would be like an ambush.

“I need to see him.”  Bruce made his exit, and Dick and Damian stared after him.

“D, call your mom, she’s in town sometimes right?  See if she's around now.  I don't have Jason’s number, but I'll try Tim.”  Dick was getting frantic. He could see a disaster happening, and perhaps said disaster could be avoided if he could get others to run interference.

They hastily texted and made calls on their phones as they followed Bruce’s path down to the garage.  By the time they got there, Bruce was already speeding off.  Dick jumped into another car, Damian scrambling into the passenger seat, and they were off as well, speeding toward Gotham Conservatory.

Bruce could drive like a madman when he was of mind, and he beat Dick and Damian to the Conservatory by a good ten minutes.  Dick ran all the way to their rehearsal room.  He had been unable to reach Tim, and he could already hear shouting as he reached the room.

“Don't you fucking touch me!”  It was Jason, and he was screaming at the top of his lungs.

“Jason, please.”  Bruce sounded pained, his voice tight, and broken up. Like he had those several months after Talia had taken Jason away.  “I just want to talk.”

“Don't you fucking dare.  Don’t pretend like you care.  Like you _ever_ cared!”  Jason bolted, nearly crashing into Dick as he ran out of the room.  Dick tried to grab onto him, but Tim was holding him back.

“Leave him alone, Dick.”  Tim actually looked pissed.  “You’ve done enough.”  He left Dick gaping guiltily in the hallway as he ran after Jason.

A moment later, a tall dark-haired woman marched down the hall.  Her clacking heels and regal posture spoke to her significance.  

Talia al Ghul, in the flesh.

“Mother--" Damian started, but she interrupted him.

“My son,” her voice soft and cold, “I will speak to you in a moment.  But first, I must deal with your father.”  She entered the room where Bruce was now nearly boiling over in rage.

“What did you tell him?”  Bruce demanded.  “What lies did you fill his head with about me?”

Talia slapped him.  “How dare you?  How many times have I told you, time and again, not to approach or talk to him?”

“How dare I?  You know very well that I had wanted to adopt him.  He was already practically part of the family.  You knew, and you still took him away from me!”

“Because you failed him.”  Talia’s words were like weaponized icicles. “You knew he was in danger.  You knew he was in the hands of those monsters, and you left him there until they nearly killed him.”

“I didn't know,” Bruce choked out.  “Not for sure.  I had already reported them to CPS.  There were legal procedures I had to follow.”

“So you say.  I saw differently.”  Talia was shorter than Bruce by a good few inches, but she still managed to look down her nose at him.  “There are other ways and means to procure the paper that will grant custody of an unwanted child.”

Dick knew that had grated at Bruce for years as well.  The speed at which Talia had acquired the legal right to custody of Jason meant that she had probably bribed and blackmailed her way into it.  

“You didn't even let me see him,” Bruce said angrily.

“Because, my beloved,” her face was colored with anguish, “after the incident, Jason would not speak for almost a year.  He could not bear to be touched.  He could bear to see no one.  He barely allowed me to get close to him, let alone another man who would claim to want to be his father.”

Dick had never seen Talia so wrought with emotion.  He rarely saw her at all, but she was usually a monument to emotionally untouchable.  Now though, she was brimming with anger and accusation.   

“It took me years,” she nearly snarled.  “ _Years_ to repair the damage done to him.  I will not have you undo my hard work.”

“He’s not some broken toy you can fix.”  Bruce was still seething.

“Of course not,” she steamed back.  “He is my son.  One of them.”  She glanced briefly at Damian, who had huddled in a chair and remained silent.  “You may have convinced my youngest son to follow your ways, but I will protect my remaining son as I see fit.”

She turned back to Damian then.  “Damian, I would ask you again, if you would like to come home, but I fear I already know the answer.”

“Mother, I'm sorry,” Damian shook his head.  “I will stay with father.”

“Very well, I will call on you soon.”  She bent and lightly kissed his forehead, before sweeping out of the room.

As soon as she was gone, Bruce yelled and slammed his fist in rage into the nearest surface, leaving a fist sized hole in the drywall.

“Bruce, your hand.”  Dick reached out, but Bruce brushed past him.

“I’ll see you at home,” he said, and stomped off.  

Well, that was as royal a fuck up as any, and Dick knew that this was all his fault.  He had to find Jason and apologize.  To make sure he was okay.

Dick looked over at Damian again, and the boy was staring intently into his lap, fists balled in tension.

“You must fix this, Richard.”  Damian didn't look up.  “We were making progress.  Todd was beginning to assimilate.”  He looked up at Dick, eyes a little red and moist.  “We must continue the quartet.   If mother and father see that we can work together, they will stop this foolishness!”

Was that the plan all along?  Dick didn't know the answer. He had just known that he had wanted to get to know Jason. To fix his own failings with him from so many years ago.  And that if it worked he could bring Jason back to repair the hole he had left in Bruce’s heart as well.  

Maybe it wasn’t too late.  Maybe keeping the quartet together could still happen, and maybe it could help fix the rending his parents had caused to Damian’s heart as well.  It wouldn't fix everything, but if they could come together maybe it would go along way to laying the groundwork for a more civil relationship between Bruce and Talia.

Just then, Tim walked back into the room and slumped into a chair.

“I couldn't catch up with him,” Tim sighed.  “I think he might have actually stolen a car and drove off.”

“Do you know where he lives?” Dick asked.  “I need to find him.  This is my fault.  I need to know he’s okay.”

“He’s not okay.  And I don’t know where he lives, but I think he walked here.  I kind of doubt he'd want to see you.  He's not answering my calls.”

Tim pulled out his phone and began typing rapidly.  Dick moved to sit next to him.  “Are you texting him? Can you ask him to meet me?”

“No,” Tim shook head, a little annoyed.  “I already said he’s ignoring me.  I'm texting Cass.”

Dick peaked over his shoulder to see that Tim was busy texting Cassandra, but instead of regular letters, it seemed they were typing back and forth in long strings of emoticons.  Dick couldn't make sense of it.

“Are you typing in some kind of code?”

“Not exactly.”  Tim shrugged.  “Cass’s language skills aren’t great, but she gets emotions. So we talk via emoticons.”

Huh.  

“Well, can you ask her if she knows where Jason lives?  I need to see him.”

Another long series of emoticons flew back and forth.  Dick thought it was seriously impossible to read, but it apparently made enough sense that Tim finally said, “She wants to see you first.  She’s coming now.”

They waited.  Damian pulled out his violin and began practicing.  Tim sat and started texting again, but Dick could see he was texting Steph, and this time he really was writing to her in some kind of bizarre code.  Dick didn't comment, just fumbled with his own phone until a presence suddenly appeared over him, and he nearly jumped out of his seat.  Cassandra was standing over him, glowering.

“Cass!” Tim said from beside him.  “I didn't see you come in.  I told you what happened this morning.  We want to make sure Jason’s okay.”

Cassandra nodded and crossed her arms as she  bore her gaze into Dick. He felt like he was being dissected.

“I didn't mean for this to get out of hand,” Dick found himself saying.  “I wanted this to work.   I wanted to bring him back into the fold.  And then I…” Dick thought shamefully about his attraction.  That he had started to _like_ Jason.  He thought about how he wanted to really get to know him personally.  How he thought Jason was devastatingly sexy and beautiful, and how deeply moving and evocative he thought Jason played his music.  

Dick didn't say any of that, but Cassandra’s gaze softened as if she knew anyway.

She stepped back toward the door, and motioned for him to follow.  Tim got up too, but she put her hand out in a staying motion.

Cassandra turned back to Dick, and then pointed at something.  He turned to see she was indicating Jason’s cello.  He had left it behind.

“D,” Dick called back, “call Alfred to pick you up later, okay?”

Damian nodded and Dick hoisted the cello onto his back as Cassandra continued out the door.  The damned thing was heavy and ridiculously bulky, and Dick had to hurry to keep up with the fluid movements of the strangely silent pianist.  It was no wonder she was such an amazing musician.  Her every graceful movement was like music itself.  She could have been a dancer.  It spoke volumes more than any words could express.  It showed the depth of her understanding of human feeling.  Music, body and spirit were one for her, as if it was her very own language.

It reminded Dick of how he felt whenever he would get the chance to fly on the trapeze.  He tried to go as often as he could. Bruce had built him his own gym too, and the feeling of freedom and soaring, it was what he often pictured when he was playing the violin.

Dick wondered if Jason had that.  If he felt any sort of freedom when he played.  He certainly seemed to be able to tap into pain and despair, but did he ever feel joy or peace?  When he had seen him playing with Cassandra, there was a sort of symbiotic fervor between them.  They had been completely in sync and playing off each other perfectly.  Dick’s heart sank a little as the thought struck him that maybe they were closer than Dick had thought. Maybe they were together?

Cassandra had led him off the campus and out onto the main thoroughfare.  They went past the dorms and along several blocks toward historic Downtown Gotham.  The district had been beautifully restored and revitalized in recent years, and it was now a hive of activity with trendy restaurants and bars set amidst a mix of historic and modern architecture.  The cornerstone of the district was the longstanding Gotham Regent Waterfront hotel, bought a decade ago and upgraded to five-stars by none other than the al Ghul family.

It seemed Jason lived here, as Cassandra led the way into the lobby.  It was all gleaming gold accents and polished marble floors.  Dick had been to quite a few world class hotels, but this one had something uniquely “Gotham” about it.  Richly opulent, yet darkly wry at the same time.  If one looked close enough at the original revival-style frescos, they featured sardonic scenes of portly well-dressed businessmen being tarred and feathered.  Cassandra went past the lobby to a side hall with an unmarked door.  She punched in a code and the door opened to reveal a private elevator.  They got in and it began ascending.

Dick set the bulky cello down, and looked over at Cassandra.  Everyone seemed to call her Cass.  He wondered again at her relationship with Jason, and curiosity got the best of him.  It would be best to know before he talked to Jason, if he was even allowed in the door.

“Are you and Jason…?”  He couldn't say it.  Somehow if the answer was yes, Dick felt he would be devastated.  It wasn't as if he had ever been for lack of interested partners, but for some reason, Jason felt different.  He wasn't sure when his mild interest and physical attraction had turned into something more, but he felt stupidly helpless now to what could turn out to be an unreciprocated crush.  

Cass smiled at him, and patted his arm comfortingly as if he had just confessed his bleeding heart out, and replied, “No.”

It was the most uplifting thing he had heard all week.

The elevator finally reached the top floor and they stepped out into a marble foyer.  There was a large wooden door before them, and Cass pointed at the intercom at the side.

Dick took a breath and pushed the button.  

“I said I’ll be fine, Talia.”  A tired sounding Jason sounded through the intercom.

“Um.”  Apparently they had just missed Jason’s adoptive mother.  That was a relief.

There was a long pause, during which Dick held his breath.

“Why are you here?”  Jason’s tones turned sharp, echoing through the foyer.

Dick looked around, trying to spot the cameras he knew must have been hidden somewhere.  “I … have your cello?”

“Just leave it in the foyer.  Then leave.”  Jason sounded gruff, like he typically did, but there was a note of something else in his voice. He didn't sound quite right, and apparently Cass could hear it too.  She punched a code into the keypad lock and pushed open the door.

“Damnit, Cass!”  Jason was standing in the entryway by a security panel.  “Fine! Whatever.  Just march right in.  It’s not like I didn’t make it clear I wanted to be alone.”  He huffed and walked away.

Cass pulled Dick in, and followed Jason into what turned out to be the penthouse of the hotel.  It was was huge, taking up the whole top floor, and the living area sported a beautiful Steinway concert grand by the floor-to-ceiling windows.  It was still mid-day, and the view out into Gotham bay was breathtaking.  The rest of the suite was sparsely furnished.  Almost bare.

“Uh,” Dick tried to fill the awkward silence, “you live here alone?  How come Cass knows your codes?”

“She practices here,” Jason pointed at the piano, and then flopped down onto a leather couch that was so new and stiff, it looked like it was unpacked yesterday.

Dick set the cello down awkwardly by a wall, and Cass pulled him forward and pushed him to sit beside Jason on the couch.

“Talk,” she said, and then retreated.  Dick heard the front door open and then shut.  She had left him alone with Jason.

Dick fidgeted with his hands, bounced his leg, all the while Jason just stared at the floor.

“Can I get you something to drink?”  Jason finally said, a little embarrassingly, as if he had suddenly remembered his manners.

“No. I mean, maybe just some water.”

Jason got up and walked to what looked like a fully stocked bar in the corner of the room, and brought out a bottle of water from a mini fridge.  He handed it to Dick.

“Are you okay?”  Dick finally blurted out.  “You and Bruce… it was my fault. He didn't know you were back, and I hadn’t told him until now, and he just took off.  I tried to stop him, but….”  Dick realized he was rambling, and forced himself to pause.  “What I mean is, I'm sorry.  For telling Bruce.  For getting you put in my group.  I just wanted a second chance with you I guess.”

“It's fine.  I suppose I overreacted.”  Jason looked disturbingly calm.  He was still standing up, eyeing Dick a little strangely, brows slightly furrowed as if puzzling something out.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dick asked again.  “I thought you’d, I dunno, be more upset or something.  But you seem calm.”

Jason shrugged.  “Years of electroconvulsive therapy will do that to you.”

Oh.  Was that supposed to be a joke?  Dick didn't laugh, and Jason didn't continue.  The silence stretched on.

“This is some place you got here.”  If all else failed, Dick tried to make small talk.  And it looked like all else was failing.

“I hate it.”  Jason said bitterly, as he finally sat on the couch again, a little farther away from Dick this time.  “I wanted to live closer to campus, but Talia said no.”

“I thought you said she let you do what you want?”  Dick remembered too clearly almost every detail of their first rehearsal, including his little comment to Damian. It was etched in his memory, especially how the sight of Jason after so many years had nearly taken his breath away.

“Kind of.  She does for the most part, but there’re always terms and conditions.  I wanted to come back to Gotham, but she only let me if I studied under the Shiva studio at GC and stayed here.  At least this has a kitchen.” Jason seemed to try and muster a smile, but it was weak.

“Why did you want to come back, Jason?”  Dick was genuinely curious.  Gotham Conservatory was  prestigious, but so was Juilliard.  So was a bunch of other schools.  “I mean, I'm glad you're here, but you could have gone anywhere you wanted.”  

Jason didn’t answer at first.  He just looked down at the floor again, and when he spoke, he didn't look up.  “Gotham can be downright shitty, but it's home.  I grew up here, in a one room studio in Crime Alley with my mom before she died.  I got tired of living abroad, from moving from hotel to hotel with Talia.  After everything that happened, I know it's masochistic, but I just wanted to come back to a place that was familiar.”

Dick understood his sentiment.  He had grown up in a trailer in the circus before his parents died, and as much as the Manor had become his home, he had never grown accustomed to the extravagant lifestyle of the wealthy.

“I knew I'd eventually see you and Bruce,” Jason continued, much to Dick’s surprise.  “But I had wanted it to be on my own terms.  I didn't expect to see you in my first rehearsal, and I didn't expect Bruce to just show up and pretend to start caring after all these years.”

“He did care, Jay.”  Dick ventured to put a hand out over Jason’s.  “He was devastated when Talia took you away.  He practically put together an entire law firm and a PI team to try and get you back.”

“So you say,” Jason said, disbelieving, and Dick clearly saw the echoes of Talia in him.  She had spent the last several years not only healing him, but _shaping_ him in her own image.

Jason looked down at where Dick still had his hand over his, as if suddenly noticing the contact.  He had been holding his hands palm down against his thighs, and Dick realized belatedly how his action could be interpreted as an unwanted intimate advance.  Dick hadn't intended it that way, but now that he had done it, he found he didn’t want to remove his hand.  His heart nearly thundered out of his chest as Jason slowly turned his palm upward to caress Dick’s fingertips with his own.

“Dick.”  Jason's voice was throaty and low, but he kept his eyes averted, refusing to meet Dick’s eyes.  

“Jason.  Jay.”  Dick’s mouth felt full of cotton suddenly, but the way Jason was touching him back, even with just the tips of his fingers, and the way his other hand had clenched into a fist…. The way his voice had gone husky and he had suddenly gone rigid, as if struggling for self control.  Dick had already been around the block more than once, so to speak, and he clearly saw the signs.  This wasn’t discomfort or disgust.  Jason wanted him right back.

“Jay, look at me.”  Dick felt emboldened.  He slid his hand a little further up, brushing the inside of Jason’s thigh and eliciting a sharp intake of breath.  He finally looked up at Dick, swallowing and wetting his lips as Dick began to rub small circles with his fingers, inching further up toward Jason’s groin.  “I want you, Jay.  I've wanted you for weeks.  I want you to kiss me.  Will you kiss me, Jay?”

Jason actually let out a stifled laugh.  “I had the shittiest morning ever, and now my childhood wet dream is coming on to me.  Never in my wildest fucking dreams did I ever think you would actually ask me that.”

“So is that a yes?”

“God yes.”

Jason brought his hands up to cup Dick’s face and pressed their mouths together. Dick opened up to receive him and Jason pushed his tongue into his mouth as he used his weight to tumble Dick backward into the cushions.  Jason shifted his hands lower, found his way under Dick’s hem, and Dick obliged by removing his shirt.

Jason stared down at him.  “How can anyone be so damned gorgeous? So fucking perfect.”

“I'm not.”  Dick pulled Jason back down on top of him, licking his mouth as he took one of Jason’s hands and guided it down to unbutton his jeans.

“You are,” Jason breathed back.  He kissed along Dick’s jawline, flicking his nipple with one hand and stroking the trail of hair just below his navel with the other.  His skin was on fire.  Jason's touch was teasing and sensual.  It was driving Dick mad with desire.  He needed to move things along before he came just from the heavy petting.

Dick pushed out of his jeans, briefs and all, until he was completely naked, fully hard and wanting.  Jason gazed at him, eyes heavy with lust.  He wet his lips again, a move that had Dick’s member twitching with anticipation, but Jason was still fully dressed.  He reached his hand out to grab at Jason’s clothes.

“Dick.”  Jason pulled back suddenly, and Dick stilled his hands.

“What is it?”  Dick sat up in concern.  Was Jason getting cold feet?  

Jason didn’t answer, but he seemed to need a moment to collect himself.  He looked… nervous, but then he pulled off his shirt in one swift motion, revealing his bare chest.  Jason waited as Dick took in the sight of his torso.  He was broad and well muscled -- he had more mass than Dick, and he was taller-- a far cry from the gangly teenager that Dick had met so long ago, but he was covered in a cross hatch of scars.  They were long healed-over in a pattern of silvery white and darker pigmented marks that mapped the history of his abuse and trauma.

Dick reached for him, tracing a particularly jagged line that ran across his side, before hooking his finger into Jason’s belt loop.  He pulled him close again, brushing their lips together softly before nudging Jason into another open-mouthed kiss.

Jason responded with renewed fervor, and Dick slid his hands down to unfasten his belt and fly.  He finally managed to slide Jason’s jeans down his hips and pressed a palm against Jason’s hard prick.  He was long and thick, and Dick dropped to his knees to take him in his mouth.

“Ah,” Jason let out a gasp as Dick worked his mouth so he was taking Jason down to the back of his throat.  He sucked and glided his tongue, circling the head of Jason’s cock and feeling the ridges of the veins along his shaft.

“Oh christ,” Jason moaned as Dick worked him over.  Then suddenly he hauled Dick up by the arm.  “Come on.  Bed.”

He dragged Dick along with him, all the while kissing his neck and stroking the round of his ass.  They made it into what was presumably Jason’s bedroom, but Dick didn't get a chance to take in the environment because Jason was pushing him until he fell backwards onto the bed.  Jason attacked his mouth, and there was a fumbling at the nightstand before Jason climbed over him, mouths still locked and tongues intertwined.  Jason pushed his legs apart, and Dick felt a slick finger stroke at his entrance.

“What do you want, Dick?”  Jason whispered between breathy kisses.  “Tell me what you like.”

“Fuck me, Jay,” Dick writhed against Jason’s stroking finger.  “Fuck me.  Take me.”

Jason accepted the invitation and pushed a finger into him, stroking and stretching as the slick finger became two.  He brought his mouth to lick and suck at his balls at the same time, gripping and squeezing the base of Dick’s engorged sex with his other hand, and Dick nearly melted into putty under Jason’s ministrations.  Jason was good at this.  Practiced and experienced.  Dick spared a moment to wonder at that.  Jason was beautiful, even with the faded scars, so he probably had no lack of partners if he wished.  But he was still so young.  Younger than Dick at least.  And he was so solitary and closed off.  Dick just couldn't see him bed hopping enough to be _this_ good.

Jason was bringing him close to the edge, but then he would slow his stroking, relaxing the tension before starting up again, leaving Dick floating in a limbo of repeating crests of ecstasy.  It was painfully arousing.  He was moaning and bucking, curling and arching.  He had never been so turned on his life, but he needed completion. He needed to be filled.

He begged for it, turning over onto his stomach, and lifting his hips.  “Please.  Jay, please.  Fuck me.  Just fuck me, please.”

There was a rustle of a condom wrapper, and he felt Jason stroke his flank as he lined himself up, kneeling behind him on the bed.  He pushed in slowly.  Too slowly, and Dick pushed back to take him in fully, too desperately aroused to wait any longer.  The slight burn of himself stretching around Jason’s cock only served to arouse him further.

He heard Jason gasp, gripping his hip with a hand before releasing into a stroking motion again.  Jason has breathing hard.  Dick could hear his ragged breaths as he leaned forward to kiss his shoulder.

“You okay?”  Jason asked, voice strained.

“Yes, more than okay.  Just fuck me. Please,” Dick pleaded as he rocked himself on Jason’s hardness.  He needed to feel the sliding heat.  He needed Jason to take him _now_.  “Please.  Oh god, please,” he begged again.

Jason began to move, his thrusts long and grinding, and Dick moaned loudly as the heat and friction built up.  His whole body felt charged, the tension like a spring, stretched and taut and then compressed and barely contained.  It was overwhelming, the sheer carnality of it.  Jason pushed forward so that Dick’s face was pressed into the bedsheets.  He layered their hands together, Jason’s fingers sliding between his own, his thrusts coming down hard and glancing his prostate, jarring his whole body with each slap of Jason’s thighs against his flank.  And then Dick was crashing.  Exploding.  Wailing as his orgasm tore through him, rending his senses apart in excruciating pleasure.  

Jason gave one last thrust, letting out a guttural cry as he reached his own release.  He collapsed on top of Dick, panting and still slightly trembling from his climax.

Dick shifted, rolling out from under so he could bring his arms around Jason.

“That was amazing, Dick,” he was saying.  “Fuck, _you're_ amazing.”

 _He_ was amazing?  Jason had just given him the most inconceivably intense orgasm he'd ever had in his life.  If anyone was amazing, it was _Jason_.

“I think I'm in love with you,” Dick blurted out.

“I think I’ve _always_ been in love with you,” Jason responded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI - in case you've read my other fics, I'm still working on the Dreamscape series, I just kind of wanted to get this out of my head first!


	2. Chapter 2

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They stayed in bed the rest of the afternoon, idly talking as they rested and recovered, and then making love a second time and then a third time, learning each other’s bodies and revelling in shared pleasure.

Dick dozed off after that, exhausted and unbelievably sated.  He woke suddenly though, when Jason jolted out of bed.

“Jason?”  A woman's voice called from outside the room.

“Shit!  It's Talia!”  Jason scrambled through a drawer of clothes.  He had barely pulled on a pair of sweats, throwing a second pair at Dick who was still on the bed, when the door abruptly burst open.

“Jas--.”  Talia stood there.  She was much too composed and controlled to ever gape, but she did shoot Dick a rather scathing look.

“Dude, privacy?” Jason exclaimed.

“I will wait for you outside.”  She shut the door.

Jason let out a sigh, and finished pulling on a shirt.  “Sorry, I forgot I was supposed to meet her for dinner.”  Dick looked at the clock, and it was well into evening.  Jason handed him a t-shirt, which he thankfully donned, and then followed him out into the living area.

Talia was standing by the large windows, near the grand piano.  The sun had almost disappeared over the horizon, and the twinkling lights of the skyline reflected across the water.  Talia was looking out at Gotham Bay, but turned as Jason entered the room.

Dick hung back, unsure of what to do.  His clothes were still strewn about the couch, along with Jason’s, and gathering them up and slinking out would be shamefully undignified in Talia’s presence, even for him.  She already disliked his brotherly relationship with Damian, and now sleeping with her adopted son probably knocked him down to the bottom rung of her estimation.

Thankfully, she didn't even acknowledge him, and instead addressed Jason.

“Jason, I was concerned when you failed to meet me downstairs.”  Talia had a way of speaking that was somehow both dulcet and severe at the same time, and Jason flushed red in embarrassment at her reprimand.

“I'm sorry Talia.  I lost track of time.”  He shifted on his feet and crossed his arms in discomfort.  It would have been adorable if not for the awkwardly tense atmosphere.

“Indeed you did.”  Talia glanced at Dick.  “Well then,” she paused and scrutinized him, and then seemed to come to some sort of conclusion.  “Richard, why don't you join us for dinner.”  It was not a question.  

“I…” Dick hesitated.  Even if she hadn’t just literally caught him in bed with Jason, the last thing he wanted was to have dinner with the cold and austere woman who was Bruce’s ex and Damian’s mom.  And now Jason's adoptive mom.  But knowing Talia, to refuse would be an _unforgivable_ affront.  

“Of course.  I would love to, but I'm afraid I wouldn't be properly dressed,” Dick replied.  

Talia wouldn't be caught dead at a casual dining restaurant.  The places she visited would likely require a pressed shirt and dinner jacket.

“No, but you are Bruce’s boy,” she said with blasé.  “They will know who you are.  You shan’t be refused.”  She turned back to Jason.  “You however, I expect to be properly dressed.  I will meet you downstairs in half an hour.”

With that Talia made her exit.

Jason looked at him apologetically.  “She's punishing me.  And you.  I'd offer you some clothes, but I don't think that would help.”

Jason was a couple inches taller, but their builds were very different. If Dick tried to get by in Jason’s tailored and fitted formal wardrobe, he'd just end up looking like a slob.  It was better if he just looked like a slob in his own t-shirt and jeans.  At least they would fit.

And so an hour later, after a quick shower -- separately, lest they get sidetracked again -- Dick found himself extremely underdressed at one of Gotham’s most elite restaurants.  Alfred would have been appalled, but as Talia anticipated, they did indeed recognize him by name -- _We are so pleased to welcome you to our fine establishment, Mr. Grayson --_ as the adopted son of Gotham's preeminant billionaire.  They would have taken his jacket and polished his shoes, if he had been dressed accordingly.  Dick hated this kind of sycophancy, but he was used to putting up with it.

The saving grace was that Jason looked impeccable.  He had slicked back his hair and donned a perfectly fitted dark gray jacket over a red dress shirt. He looked absolutely delectable, and Dick wasn't the only one who noticed.  There were several glances at his form as they walked to their table.  Dick noticed, because he often received those glances himself, but dressed as he was, he was overshadowed this time by Jason’s sleekly polished and intense presence.  

Jason certainly knew how to carry himself.  Talia had trained him well apparently and he had offered her his arm.  Together they looked as beautiful as they were untouchable.  A perfectly matched pair.  Disturbingly so.  If Jason hadn’t just fucked him into the mattress just an hour ago, Dick would have wondered if there was something horribly inappropriate there.  Though, knowing Talia, the effect was intentional and she was trying to make a point.

Dinner was ordered and they made small talk, and the evening was surprisingly unprovocative save for Talia’s soul-penetrating stare.  She focused the conversation on Damian.  How was he getting along?  Was he learning to work within the quartet?  Perhaps next semester Dick would be supportive of him sitting first violin?

Dick bore it with patience, and at the end of the evening, a driver was called and she left them back at the Gotham Regent hotel.  

“Well, that went better than expected,” Dick commented as Jason led the way back into the penthouse.

“No,” Jason said dryly. “She was doing reconnaissance.  Don’t be surprised if she catches you off guard later.”

“Uh, okay?”  He thought Talia was the head of the al Ghul family’s multinational conglomerate, not some sort of spy, was she?

“Nevermind.”  Jason pulled Dick into the penthouse and pressed him up against the wall, rocking his hips against him suggestively.  “Stay with me tonight?”

With an offer like that, how could he say no?  For the fourth and then fifth time that day, Dick allowed himself to be screwed senseless.

 

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The next morning, Dick woke to the tinkling of piano keys coming through the walls.  Jason was gone, and in his place beside him on the bed, Dick found a note in a surprisingly neat scrawl: _Lesson with Prof. Wu-San this morning.  See you after class?_  It was followed by what was apparently Jason’s phone number.  Score!

Dick scrubbed up quickly in the bathroom, cursing under his breath as he noticed a red love bite peaking out from under his collar.  Nothing he could do about it now, but a small part of him enjoyed the fact that Jason had marked him.  He donned the discarded clothes from the previous night and followed the music out into the living area.  Cass was there, practicing at the piano.  She paused to wave at Dick briefly, before starting up again.  It sounded like Scriabin’s second sonata.  She was repeating a passage over and over again, practicing seriously.

Dick left her to it as he made his way out the door.  It was still early, and though he had missed pretty much all his classes the day before, today he didn’t have another class until later in the afternoon.  He would have time to go home and change.  Damian had texted him that he had stuffed his violin and things into one of the lockers, but he needed to swing by campus to get the car he had left in haste yesterday morning.  

It all seemed so surreal.  Yesterday morning had seen the disastrous confrontation between Jason and Bruce.  He hadn’t yet found Jason in his penthouse.  He hadn’t yet made love repeatedly with him all afternoon, met his adoptive mother for dinner, and then made love again all night.  Dick smiled to himself.  He could still feel the after effects of their activities.  There was a pleasant soreness to his backside.

Dick was so lost in the pleasant memories as he walked back to campus, that he didn’t notice the black limousine sidle up alongside him until a large burly man got out to block his path.  By then it was too late.  The man grabbed his shoulder, opened the door and shoved him in.

“Hey!” Dick cried as he flopped onto the seat.  He pushed himself back up, ready to fight his way out of the car, only to come face to face with Talia.

“Richard,” she said tonelessly.  “Would you do me the honor of going for a drive with me.”

Oh shit. Hadn’t Jason warned him about this?  She wouldn’t try to hurt him would she?  The al Ghul family ran a legit corporation, but Dick knew they had dealings that were not strictly above the board.  The al Ghuls had a reputation for being ruthless, and their mercenary and private military operations bled into other things… trafficking in various arms, substances and _people_ were rumored, among other things.  

Talia seemed to note his apprehension.  “You need not worry Richard.  I would not harm one of my beloved’s boys without reason, especially you.  You seem to be Damian’s favorite.”  She smiled, but it was cruel and cold.

“What do you want?”  Dick noted that the car had started moving.  He looked out the window and was relieved to see they were still moving through the busier parts of the city.  

“I merely want to have a heart to heart.  About my son, Jason.”

“You saw him last night.  He’s fine.”  As fine as Dick had ever seen him at least.

“Perhaps,” she said darkly, “but you must know you are playing with fire.”

“How so?”

“Do you know what happened that night, Richard?”  

She could only be talking about the _incident_.  And no, Dick didn’t know what had happened.  Not in detail anyway, but he had his guesses based on the sordid coverage in the tabloids.  Jason had been horribly abused, right under their noses, and he had nearly been beaten to death with a crowbar.

“You know enough about my family’s dealings,” she continued, “to know that sometimes we must consort with the less than savory.  Before that night, there was an auction, of which I attended.  There was a boy there, one I had met previously when he had won your father’s competition.  I knew he was very talented.  He would have a very bright future, if given the proper resources.  But he was poor, and with no family.  No home.”

“You mean Jason.”  A feeling of dread was building.  Dick already knew this story didn’t end well.  “Jason was there.  Was he performing?”

“Yes.  He performed.”  Something in her expression changed.  It was ever so slight, a subtle tightening around her eyes, and a stiffening around her mouth, as if to cover the slight quaver in her voice as she spoke.  “There was a demonstration of his many talents.  I have no doubt that you experienced some of them last night.”

It felt like something icy and cold had just clawed at his heart as he let her words sink in.  She wouldn’t lie to him about this would she?  No.  Her face was serious and pained.  The cold hard truth she was imparting was that Jason had been on the auction block that day.  Talia didn't elaborate for what purpose.   She didn’t need to.

“Needless to say, I was appalled.  I did everything in my power to obtain him right then and there.”

“You bought him?  You _bought_ Jason?”  Dick felt angry and disgusted.  

“Of course.  I couldn’t leave him there.  How could I?  Not when I knew how much my beloved cared for him.  Your father would have done the same.”

Bruce would have certainly done everything in his power to free Jason, if he had known the extent to which Jason was being abused.  He hadn’t known had he?  Bruce had indicated that he suspected something was wrong, but this… this was beyond heinous.

“But then what happened?”  Dick had still been abroad, but he had heard from Alfred that Bruce had gotten a call from Dr. Thompkins in the middle of the night, and he had rushed out to the hospital immediately.  “The fire at the foster home….  How did Jason still end up in the hospital?”

“Unfortunately, I did not have the liquid funds immediately to make the exchange.  I was not anticipating the purchase of a _boy_.  It required another day for the transfer to become available.”  Talia seemed genuinely regretful as she continued the story.  “In the meantime, there had been many others who had been interested in his purchase.  The monsters that claimed to be Jason’s caregivers attempted to sell him for his last night with them, to that two-faced man, Harvey Dent.  At some point Jason fought back.  His caregivers became angry, and beat him.  I do not know how the fire started, but it alerted the authorities and he was rescued.  The papers for his adoption had already been drawn up in my name, so I took him as soon as he was well enough to be moved.”

Dick genuinely felt sick.  He felt like crying.  This was what had happened to Jason.  What had been happening to Jason while Dick had been too busy being jealous and immature to befriend him.  Maybe if he had, Jason would have told him what was going on.  Maybe this wouldn’t have happened.  Maybe he would have been saved before he had nearly died, and Talia wouldn’t have had to take him away.

“Why?”  Dick wiped at the wetness that leaked out of his eyes.  “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you should know what you are getting into,” she replied.  “Because he may not ever be able to tell you this.  Because you can hurt him without even knowing it.”

“I won’t,” Dick sobbed.  “That’s not what I want.  I don’t want to hurt him.”

“You could.  And if you do, I will kill you.”

He didn’t doubt that Talia would make good on her threat.  Even with Bruce as his adoptive father,  she would find a way.  But still, he had just started this relationship with Jason, and he had never felt this way about anyone.  He wasn’t going to give up on it, just for being afraid of unintentionally hurting someone he had fallen in love with.  It would just mean he would have to try harder.  He would have to make sure Jason would not be hurt.

“I’m not giving up on him,” Dick stated.

“Good,” Talia narrowed her eyes at him.  “You would have been unworthy if you did.”

She tapped the glass partition of the limousine, and the car came to a stop.  The burly chauffeur that had manhandled Dick earlier opened the door.

“Take care, Richard Grayson,” Talia said stonily.  “I imagine I will be seeing you again soon.”

Dick got out of the car, and realized that he was in the campus parking lot, where he had left his car the previous day.  He got into the car and drove back to the Manor, his hands sweaty and heart still pounding from his conversation with Talia.

He made it home in record speed, despite the morning commute traffic.  When he made it through the Manor doors, Bruce was suddenly there.

“Dick! Where have you been?”  Bruce said angrily, but then he must have seen something in Dick’s face, because he immediately changed his tone.  “What is it?  What’s wrong?”

“How much did you know, Bruce?”  Dick’s voice came out small and faint.  “How much did you know about Jason, before Talia took him away?”

Bruce looked taken aback, his eyes momentarily wide with shock, his jaw slightly slack as he took in Dick’s words.  But then he collected himself, and looked grim.

“She talked to you, didn’t she?”

“Yes.”

Bruce cursed, seemed to want to hit something with his already bandaged hand, but then gave up and covered his face in his hands.

“I’ll tell you what I knew.  What I know now.  But not here.”

Dick followed Bruce into his private den, where Bruce proceeded to collapse into a chair, as if extremely weary.  He leaned forward to put his elbows on his knees.  Dick sat next to him and waited.

“I saw marks on him.  Bruises.  His teachers had reported the same, but they also claimed he often got in fights.”  

“He never said how he got them?” Dick asked, and Bruce shook his head.

“He asked me things that didn’t reveal anything conclusive, but they were telling.  He asked about you, if you slept in your own room at night.  He asked if I ever brought any other boys around to stay.  He was trying to figure out why I was interested in him.  I never touched him, but he kept expecting me to.  The most telling was the fact that his foster parents insinuated I should be paying them every time Jason came by.  I didn’t.  I wouldn't.”

“But you reported it, didn’t you?  I remember you did.”  Dick recalled that Bruce had often been on the phone with CPS when he was home visiting.  He would be angry and yelling most of the time.

“I did, but their hands were tied without any conclusive evidence.”  Bruce had balled his hands into fists.  “And then I told that bastard.  I thought he could help, but I didn’t know.  Oh god.  I didn’t _know_.”

Harvey Dent.  Bruce had told Harvey Dent.  His old friend from his days in school.  Realization hit Dick like a punch in the gut -- Joe Kerr and Harlene Quinzel had already been abusing him, but Bruce had been the one to put Jason on Harvey’s radar.  Whatever had caused that fire that night, Harvey had been right there.  Half his face had been singed away, but he had been there right alongside Joe Kerr as he beat Jason nearly to death with a crowbar.

“Bruce, you did everything you could.” Dick tried to sound comforting, but he knew his words would ring hollow.  Bruce would never forgive himself.  He blamed himself for what happened to Jason.

“He’s okay now.”  Dick tried again.  “Really.  I mean.  He’s amazing.  You haven’t heard him play.  It’s phenomenal.  Magical even.  I’ve never seen anyone play with so much… emotion.  I've never heard anyone express so much….”

“So much pain.”  Bruce completed the sentence.  “I've never heard anyone express so much pain and sadness in their music.  I heard it back then too.”  Bruce closed his eyes, remembering, “when he won the Robin competition.”

Bruce had been irrevocably shaped by the trauma of his parents’ deaths, so much that when Dick had first come to live at the Manor, his demeanor had still been largely hollow and cold.  It came out as ruthlessness in his business dealings, but he was never without heart underneath it all.  He conducted brutal corporate takeovers, but he targeted companies that were less than ethical in order to change them.  And he had had the heart to see Dick, a boy suffering the same loss, and take him in as his own.  Eventually Bruce had warmed up more, but he still struggled with the ability to channel his pain -- to say what he was really feeling and express himself.  It was one of the reasons he sponsored the Robin competition, so he could encourage youth to find an outlet that he didn’t have, and it was open to kids from all walks of life, no matter their circumstances.  

Dick had never let the tragedy of his parents’ deaths define him the same way Bruce had.  But with Jason, much like Bruce, his trauma seemed ingrained in him.  It shaped every bit of who he was.  He couldn't escape that part of himself, and yet, he expressed himself like no one Dick had ever heard, through his music.  He carried the wounds of his past, and though he was scarred, he had also been healed.  Thanks to Talia.

“He’s doing okay Bruce.  He’s strong.”  Dick thought of how Jason carried himself.  He didn't walk around like a broken man. He was someone who had _survived_ , and he exuded a confidence and inner fortitude that few people had, tragic background or not.  

“I was with him last night,” Dick continued, “and Talia… she's creepy, and manipulative, and she threatened to kill me --.”

“ _What?_ ”

“-- but she's done him good.  She put him back together.  She looks after him and really cares about him, in her own kind of messed up way.”  Dick couldn't believe he was saying this about the woman who not nearly an hour ago had seriously made Dick fear for his life.  But Talia, for all her faults, had opened her heart to Jason.  She had healed him enough that he was now doing reasonably well and functioning independently.

Bruce was looking at him quizzically.  More specifically, he was looking at a spot on Dick’s neck where Jason had left a mark.  “You were _with_ him last night?  With _Jason_?”

Oh.   _Oh._  Dick had unwittingly confessed again.

“Yeah. Um… yeah.”  Dick looked down and rubbed the spot on his neck, face heating.  There wasn't much more to it that he could say.

Bruce was silent for a long time, and Dick finally looked up to see that he didn't seem angry… just upset.

“Bruce, I like him.  Jason, I mean.”  Dick paused, because he knew those words weren't quite right.  It didn't capture the depth of what he was really feeling.  “More than like.  I think… I'm in love with him.”

Bruce balled his fists again, eyes looking at some undefined point across the room, absorbed in memory again.  He finally let out a sigh.  “Just… be careful with him.  For both your sakes.  I doubt he’ll let me see him again, so keep an eye on him.”

“I will.  I promise.”

Dick left him to his thoughts after that, and proceeded to clean up and change to get back to campus.  He packed an overnight bag this time, hoping he wasn't being too presumptuous as he texted Jason where to meet after his last class.

The rest of the day wouldn't go by fast enough. Dick was a nervous ball of energy.  He was twitchy and jumpy, anxious that another black limousine would appear and nervous about what he would say to Jason about his conversation with Talia.  He thought briefly about simply not telling him, but Talia could easily use that against him, and he wanted Jason to trust him.  He had to say _something_.

Eventually, his last class ended and Dick sprinted back to the Gotham Regent hotel.  Jason was waiting for him in the lobby, and Dick pecked him on the lips as he approached, smiling as Jason flushed scarlet. Apparently he wasn't used to public displays of affection.  Once they were enclosed in the privacy of his penthouse however, Jason didn’t hesitate to push Dick up against the wall, pressing his lips to his mouth in a hot, messy kiss.  He then slowly kissed down his neck as he reached for Dick’s fly.

Dick folded to Jason’s hands, but then he remembered what had happened earlier, and he squirmed away slightly.

“Jay, I need to tell you something....nnggh!”  Dick gasped as Jason nipped his earlobe, tonguing behind his ear.  

“Okay, tell me,” he teased.

“I’m serious.  Stop for a second.”  Dick brought his hands up to push at Jason’s shoulders.  Jason immediately stilled and pulled away, face serious and concerned.

“I saw Talia,” Dick blurted out.  “She picked me up this morning.”

“What?”  Jason brought his arms up to cross over his chest, almost protectively.  He narrowed his eyes, and then glanced away.  “What did she tell you?” Jason’s voice was quiet and tense.

“She told me…,” Dick searched for the right words.  He wasn't sure how Jason would react at all.  “She told me how she ended up adopting you.”

“She _told_ you....”  Jason shook his head, running his hand through his hair.  “Of course she did.”  He turned on his heel and marched toward his bedroom.  Dick rushed after him.

“It doesn't matter, Jay!”  Dick reached for his shoulder and turned him around.  A mask of anger clouded Jason’s features, but that’s what it was.  A mask.  Underneath Dick knew there was an ocean of hurt.  “I didn’t know… and I’m sorry for what happened to you.  And for being a jerk back then.  But right now, it doesn’t matter Jay.  It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Dick pulled him into an embrace.  Jason was stiff at first, but he didn’t pull away, so Dick continued to stroked his back and held him close.

“I just wanted you to know… that I know, and it doesn’t change what we started.”  Dick shifted, pulling back so he could look Jason in the eyes.  “I want to be with you.  I still want you.”

“Okay.”  Jason spoke softly, and leaned forward to brush his lips against Dick’s.  And then in a voice that was somehow both vulnerable and fierce, “Show me then.  Show me it doesn’t matter.  That you still want me.”

A desperate challenge.  A need to have Dick prove that it wasn't a lie.  Jason needed _actions_ , not words.

Dick brought their mouths together in a tentative kiss, parting his lips slightly and probing with the tip of his tongue before Jason opened up to him.  Then it was all warm heat and hands stroking under his shirt and down his back.

“All I ever wanted back then,” Jason’s breathy voice was in his ear as Dick allowed himself to be pulled into the bedroom, “was for you to look at me.  I just wanted you to look at me, and want me back.”

“I’m looking at you now, Jay.”  Dick lifted Jason’s shirt off, traced the lines of his scars with his fingertips, down and across his chest, down his abdomen.  Following the trail of his fingers with his tongue.  Dick sank to his knees and worked open Jason’s fly, tugged down his pants and nuzzled his face along Jason’s thigh.  He kissed and licked and sucked at his skin, ran his tongue along his scrotum and sucked his balls, rolling them in his mouth one by one before pulling away to tease at the tip of Jason’s cock.  He quickly became fully hard and Dick took him into his mouth, worked his head back and forth, swallowing and humming as Jason ran a hand through his hair.

“Gnnn…,” Jason groaned, “Dick.  Fucking christ, your mouth...nnngh….”  

He stepped out of the clothing pooled around his feet and backed onto the bed, scooting back and propping himself on his elbows.  Dick followed, not breaking contact as he continued to work Jason, until he was moving his hips to meet Dick as he slid his mouth up and down, hollowing his cheeks and teasing the slitted tip of his swollen hardness with his tongue.

He could feel the tension of contracted muscle as he brought a palm up to stroke at Jason’s belly, the alternating clenching and relaxing of his abs, the way his thighs spread a little wider to give Dick more access.  Dick teased his entrance, applying a gentle pressure against his hole.

“Oh fuck, Dick.”  Jason was tipping over the edge, thrusting more forcefully into his mouth, “I’m coming. Fuck.”

Dick held his hips down and swallowed as Jason’s hot seed hit the back of his throat.  He felt him tremble and spasm as he emptied himself, and Dick took it all into himself until Jason let out a final moan and collapsed onto his back.  He pulled Dick into a kiss, not hesitating to taste his own come on Dick’s tongue.

Jason tugged at his shirt, and Dick realized he was still fully clothed.  He stripped quickly, and Jason palmed Dick’s still hardened member as he slid out of his jeans.

“Are you sore, Dickie?”  Jason said, slightly mischievous and also slightly concerned.  He gently stroked Dick’s cock.  “From yesterday, can you still feel me?”

Dick flushed a little, but nodded.  Jason had been attentive and careful, but Dick hadn't been with a man in a while, and the repeated penetration wasn’t something he was used to.  If Jason fucked him again today, it would probably hurt.

“Relax,” Jason kissed him again.  “Let me take care of you.”

Jason pulled Dick forward and rolled him to lean back on the bed.  He worked his way down to settle between Dick’s legs, pushing his thighs apart and Dick felt something hot and wet tease and push at his hole.  Jason was using his tongue, and Dick nearly came right then and there if not for Jason suddenly gripping the base of this cock.

“Easy,” Jason soothed as Dick felt a wave of tension roll through him.  “Just enjoy it for a bit.  Let me do this for you.”

Jason licked at his hole again, stroking his cock at the same time with his hand, and Dick couldn’t stop the whimpering cries that escaped his lips.  “Jay… please.  Oh god, don’t stop.”

Jason sucked at his taint, teased again before pushing his tongue against his entrance.  Dick used his hands to pull his legs up, giving Jason further access.  It felt warm and wet, gentle yet wildly stimulating and erotic.  Jason stroked him faster with his hand, continued fucking him with his tongue, and Dick was a mess of gasping pleasure as he finally climaxed, spurting his come over his belly and Jason’s hand.

Dick felt boneless as Jason scooted up beside him on the bed.  They kissed, more leisurely and languid now that they had both been sated.  They laid in each other's arms for a long while, not speaking, until Jason finally rolled to sit up.  

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up.”  Jason took Dick by the hand.  “I can make us dinner.”

“Okay,” Dick smiled.  “I’d like that.”

 

~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~

The weeks went by, and they never brought up Jason’s past again, except once, after Jason had caught a glimpse of Bruce at a press release as he was flipping channels on the TV.

He turned to Dick, a question on the tip of his tongue, but then shook his head.

“What?  Just ask me,” Dick encouraged.  
  
“Bruce.  He never… with you?”

The question was half garbled as Jason had turned to look down at his feet, but Dick understood the question.  He wanted to know if Bruce had ever touched him, like the others that had abused Jason in the past.  
  
“No.  He’s not like that.  He’s never been like that,” Dick said confidently.  “He always cared about you.  He loved you, but not like that.”

“Oh.”  Jason did look somewhat relieved.  “I didn’t think so… but….”  He trailed off again and shook his head.  
  
He would have let the conversation drop, as Jason seemed satisfied with the answer, but a question popped into Dick’s head.

“Has Talia ever… killed anyone?”  It seemed like such a stupid question now that Dick had said it aloud, but that woman… she was damn scary.  
  
Jason actually smiled, more to himself than to Dick’s actual question.  “I actually don’t know.”  
  
Dick noted that he didn’t confirm in the negative, but he let it slide for now.  He hadn’t seen Talia again, and if Jason saw her, it was during the day when they were apart or on the off nights that they didn’t spend together.  And for the most part, Dick was staying with Jason almost every night.  Like Damian though, Jason seemed to keep the dealings and communications with Talia extremely private.  

He did learn though, that Talia kept close tabs on Jason through other means.  Sometimes Dick would spot the burly man that had manhandled him into the limousine lurking around the hotel lobby or on campus.  Jason mostly ignored him.  Dick also learned that Talia had also laid out a specific set of conditions for Jason’s stay in Gotham. Without fail, he saw a therapist, Dr. Ducra, twice a week via video chat.  There was a bevy of medications in his bathroom cabinet, antidepressants, anti-anxiety pills, and pills for insomnia.  He even logged his drug intake in an app that would buzz repeatedly if he missed a dose.  Jason stuck to the regimen that had been laid out for him, and it seemed to be working.  For all intents and purposes he was just like any other normal young adult, albeit a grouchy and moody one.

Their rehearsals continued, and Jason became less contrary with the group.  He smiled at Dick sometimes when they made eye contact as they played.  His _I want to punch you in the face stares_ toward the others slowly became mildly irritated scowls, and then they were mostly directed at Damian.  They were really coming together and gelling as a group.

“That was good work,” Professor Lance commented after a coaching session.  “Damian, that was the best lead-in you’ve done at the fifth bar of the finale.  You and Jason really nailed your entrance.”

The two boys glared at each other, Damian smugly proud and Jason outright rebellious.  But if you squinted, and Dick squinted _really hard_ , you could make out the underpinnings of camaraderie forming.  It was most certainly there, it just needed a little push.  An idea popped into Dick’s mind as they packed up after their instruments.

“Hey, why don’t we all go out for pizza?  My treat!”

“Sure!”  Tim was the first to jump in.  

Jason rolled his eyes, and Damian looked like he had just eaten a lemon.

“Please, Little D?  A good leader knows how to build a team through downtime too!”

“Fine, Richard.  But I choose the venue.”

Dick looked to Jason, and he only shrugged. “Okay, I guess.  Let me go stuff this thing in a locker.”  He indicated the bulky case of his cello.  “Meet you downstairs.”

Once he had left, Damian turned back to Dick.  “Frankly, Richard, I find your plan to control Todd through seduction rather distasteful, but it is working.”

“What? That’s...” Dick stuttered, “that is _not_ what’s happening with me and Jay!”  Out of the corner of his eye, Dick could see Tim cover his mouth to hide his laughter.

“You can call it what you want,” Damian said flippantly.  “Nevertheless, now we need to ensure mother and father can both attend our performance.  We must show them we can work together.”

“Uh, sure.  I’ll make sure Bruce is there.  You work on your mom.”

Damian nodded and they made their way out of the building to meet Jason.  They ended up choosing one of those new trendy make-your-own-pizza places.  It wasn’t half bad, and as they all sat down with their meals, Tim pulled up his laptop.

“We have to finalize our program notes and credits, guys.”  Tim stuffed a chunk of pizza into his mouth, barely chewing before he swallowed.  “We need a name for our quartet.”

“We should be the Outlaws.” Jason quipped.  “Jason Todd and the Outlaws Quartet.”

“-Tt-.” Damian shook his head.  “We are not so uncivilized to be called something as uncouth as _Outlaws_ , Todd.  And why should you be called out specifically?  If anyone, we should call ourselves after father.  None of us would be here without him.”

“I thought we were the Robins?”  Dick suggested.  “I’ve been calling us that in my head for weeks.  The Robin Quartet.  What do you say?”

“That’s awful, Dick.  It's super corny,” Jason said with dismay.

“I like it,” Tim chimed.

“As do I.”  Damian nodded.

“Three against one!  It's settled,” Dick was ecstatic.  “We’re the Robin Quartet!”  

Jason just dropped his head into his hands.  “Kill me, now.”

Their final rehearsals went more smoothly after that.  Damian had even learned to dole out compliments.

“Todd, your sense of five-eight is no longer deplorable.  I commend your modest improvement.  Mother will be pleased to see your progress.”

And, “Drake, I am glad to see father’s instrument has improved your skills greatly.”

And even, “Richard, you seem to have gotten your careless mistakes under control, and your tempos are finally consistent.  Do not let it waiver again.”

Jason and Tim just shrugged.  Dick ruffled Damian’s hair.

 

~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~

The day of the the final semester recitals came around, and the four Robins lined up with their instruments in the green room backstage.  They were all dressed smartly in their matching formal concert attire, and Dick couldn’t help admiring how Jason filled his tailored jacket, and how he looked so tall and incredibly dashing, like a bad-boy James Bond wielding a cello bow instead of a gun.  They were waiting for their curtain call, and were going on after Barbara, Stephanie, and Cassandra performed the Shostakovich Trio No. 1.  

“Why the hell are they called Batgirls?”  Jason was looking at the program, a puzzled scowl on his face.

“Yeah.  Steph explained it to me,” Tim chirped.  “They took the B-a from Bach, and combined it with the B-e-e-t-h from Beethoven.  But they didn’t want to be called the Bath Girls.  So they took out the H.”

“That makes absolutely no sense.  They’re not even playing anything from either of those composers, and they get to be Batgirls?  And we couldn’t be the Outlaws?  Plus wasn’t Steph a Robin too?”  Jason was still grousing about their name.  He didn’t like to be reminded that he was a Robin apparently.

“Shush, you two,” Damian wagged a finger like a harridan.  “I am watching the performance!  These Batgirls are formidable.  I need to see what we’re up against.”  He had a viewing screen up on his laptop.  

“It’s not a competition, D.”  Dick hadn’t realized that the performances would be livestreamed.  He was sure it _wasn’t_ supposed to be in fact.  Damian must have set up a camera in the concert hall.

Jason moved off to a chair at the side of the room in a huff, and Dick followed him.

“Are you okay? It's okay to be nervous,” Dick took his hand in his own and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m not nervous,” Jason said quickly, though the way he stared at the floor and bounced his knee was telling.  “I just… Is Bruce going to be here?”

“He’s here, Jay,” Dick said cautiously, “but you don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want.  I already warned him.”

“No… It's okay.”  Jason squeezed Dick’s hand back as he turned to look at him.  “It's okay if he’s here.  He’d want to see you and the others.”

“He wants to see you too.  He wants to see _all_ of us play.”

Jason didn’t look convinced, but Dick didn’t have time to elaborate as just then, Professor Lance gave them their curtain call.

“We’ll be great, Robins!  We’ve worked hard for this, we’re going to be the best!”  Dick was hyped as they walked onto the stage and bowed.  In the front row, he could see Bruce sitting beside Talia.  She had a hand over his on the armrest between them.  They looked at each other and smiled before turning back to the stage.  

Holy shit!  They were being civil toward each other.  More than civil.  They looked happy!  Dick was even more ecstatic.  He glanced at Damian to see he had noticed it too.  Even with his serious affect, he could see a slight upward curve to the corner of his lips.  A glance at Tim showed he just looked nervous, and Jason, he just had his normal scowl masking his face.

They sat down.  And played.

The lilting melodies of the first movement, the spirited dance-like plucks of the second, and then the slow and emotive meditation of the third.  They moved and swayed together, all hearing the unspoken beat that played out in the sounding of their strings.  They caught each other’s eyes as they moved in and out of each other’s phrases.  Calling and responding, each passing notes and rhythms and melodies to each other.  For a brief moment in time, playing this music together, it was the only thing that occupied their minds.  It was the four of them, alone in the world.  In the universe.  They moved and spoke and thought as _one_.  They sang, their voices playing through their instruments.  As they entered the fourth movement, they burst into a flurry of energy, locked together in a forceful but lopsided rhythm, like an intensely beating heart, and they tumbled forward in purposeful perfection through the finale until they reached the end.

The audience exploded in applause.  

In the front row, Dick could see Bruce and Talia had stood, holding their hands up and clapping.  Smiling. 

Dick signaled to the others to stand, and they stood, lined up in a row, and bowed.

 

~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~\\\~

“A most enviable performance!” Damian was nearly skipping back to the green room.  “And did you see mother and father, Richard?  It worked!  They saw us together, and they were pleased.  Thank you, Richard.  I had my doubts, but your idea was well executed.”

As they exited the green room after packing up their instruments, two figures stood by the doorway.  Talia and Bruce.

Dick paused, unsure of what to make of the two of them together, but then Bruce moved forward and clapped his hand over Dick’s shoulder.

“You did wonderfully.  All of you,” he turned to address the others as well, eyes lingering on Jason.

Talia moved forward and kissed Damian on the cheek, and then moved to give Jason an embrace as well.  “Quite admirably.  Beautifully evocative. I am very proud.”

She moved to link her arm with Jason and pull him away from the green room with the others, but he continued to stand still, looking back neutrally at Bruce.

“Talia, will you give me a minute?” Jason said.  His voice was polite, but his eyes were stormy and his stance rigid.  “I want to talk.  With Bruce.”

“Are you certain?” Talia didn’t let go of Jason’s arm.

He turned to her and untwined her arm from his, but held her hand between his two.  “I’ll be fine.  I’ll come find you at the reception.”  Jason turned to nod at Dick as well, and he reluctantly backed away.  

Jason and Bruce were standing, not talking, as Dick and the others made their way to the reception hall.

“Are they going to be okay like that?”  Dick asked Talia as they entered the reception.

“Jason has asked me to respect his wishes in how he deals with your father.  I will abide by them, so long as he comes to no harm.”  She clearly wasn’t pleased, but she seemed fairly confident at that moment that Jason and Bruce wouldn’t come to blows.  She ushered Damian away to talk with people Dick recognized as the Conservatory Board members, and he was left to mingle with Tim and the Batgirls, as they were now called.  Stephanie had thrown her arms around Tim and then gave him a high five.  They were pleased with their own performance as well.

It seemed like hours later, though it was probably only forty minutes tops, that Jason walked into the room with Bruce.  Nobody had a black eye or bloody knuckles, and Bruce put a reassuring hand on Jason’s shoulder as they crossed the threshold.  Dick breathed a sigh of relief, making eye contact with Jason and started to move toward him, but Jason shook his head and instead moved with Bruce to greet Talia.

Dick was dismayed at being brushed aside for the reunion, but Talia was his adoptive mother, and she demanded a certain amount of deference.  So Dick waited again, and watched from the sidelines as Jason kissed her on the cheek and took her arm.  There was more talking, and Dick found a seat off to the side to watch dejectedly as Talia and Bruce took Jason to make rounds of the room.

“Don’t look so sullen,” Damian plopped into the chair beside him.  “We succeeded.  Mother and Father are cooperating.  They are no longer fighting over Todd, and he has cleaned up well enough so as not to be an embarrassment to both the families.  They have even asked us to play at the Police Charity Gala next month, where they will both be in attendance.”

Dick sighed.  Yep.  Success.  Which would likely mean more Talia in their lives.  Whoopee.  His spirits perked however, when he saw Jason finally disentangle from Talia’s arm, giving a handshake to Bruce, to make his way over to Dick.

“Come on.” He put his hand out to pull Dick to stand, “Let’s get out of here.”

Dick smiled and let Jason pull him away.

“Do not forget, you both are to be present for the Board dinner at eight!”  Damian called after them.

“What happened with Bruce?”  Dick asked as they made their way out to the main thoroughfare.

“We talked.  It was fine.”  Jason was being purposefully vague.

“Oh?  That's it?”  Dick probed.

“I… I’d rather not talk about it.  Not right now.”

“Okay.” Dick had learned to let certain things drop.  Jason would often close off if pushed, and Dick had learned the hard way -- by getting himself kicked out from the penthouse and cold shouldered for two days -- that sometimes Jason just needed space.  Jason had been apologetic later, and they had made up through mind-blowing sex, but Jason needed privacy sometimes, and Dick would respect that this time.

Jason walked out to the curb to flag a cab and Dick followed.  “Where are we going?”

“Home.  We have an hour or so to kill, and it's on the way to dinner.”

An hour to kill?   _Oh._  

They hopped into a cab that dropped them at Jason’s hotel, and once they were in the elevator, Jason attacked his shirt and then his belt.  By the time they made it through the door, their shirts and jackets were gone, and by the time they made it to the bed they were both fully naked.

Jason pushed Dick face down onto the mattress, kneading the globes of his ass, reaching for the lube and pressing a thumb just past the ring of muscle of his hole.  Dick groaned and pushed back against Jason’s hands.

“I wanna fuck you Dickie,” Jason leaned over him and murmured into his ear.  “I wanna put my cock up your perfect ass.”

“Take me, Jay,” Dick whined.  “Do it now.”

Jason slid slicked fingers into him, probing and scissoring, stretching him and rubbing his prostate as he opened him up.  Dick ground his hips into the mattress, trying to get enough stimulation, but he needed more.  He wanted to feel Jason’s hands on him.  He pushed himself up so he was on his hands and knees, and brought one of Jason’s hands in front of him to stroke him fully erect.

“Jay, come on.  I’m ready.  We don’t have all night,” Dick urged.

Jason positioned himself behind him, and Dick felt the blunt tip of his cock stroke against his entrance before pushing slowly in.  Agonizingly slow.  Jason loved to constantly tease him like this, and Dick loved to push Jason to his limits of self control.  He relaxed as he felt himself stretch around Jason’s thick member, half buried inside him.  Then he clenched himself, and Jason took in a sharp breath, involuntarily rocking his hips, before gripping Dick’s flank to still himself.

Dick tried to push back, but Jason held his hip in place with one hand, and continued to slowly stroke Dick’s swollen sex with the other.   It wasn’t enough, and at the same time it was too much.  Jason was purposely drawing it out so that Dick felt the desire and yearning building, the want for more becoming a crescendo of need.  Finally, Jason buried himself to the hilt, and then stilled, not moving, and a litany of pleading and begging spilled from Dick’s lips.  

“Oh god, Jay.  More.  I need more.  Fuck me.  Fuck me hard.  I need it.  Do it now.  Please.”  

Jason began to move, slow and grinding at first, so Dick was gasping and fisting the sheets, and then he began to pick up the pace.  The thrusts became harder, each piston of his hips rocking Dick forward and back on his hands and knees.  

“Oh god, yes.  Jay. That’s it. Yes.”

Jason hooked his arms under Dick’s shoulders and reared him upright, almost as if in a restraint hold with his back pressed against Jason’s chest, legs spread and perched on Jason’s lap.  Jason started thrusting up into him, and Dick let his weight grind him down onto Jason’s cock, feeling the blunt tip brush the sensitive bundle of nerves inside him as Jason pulled himself nearly out each time, pulling at his ring of muscle, before sinking himself back in.  Dick moved his hand down to stroke himself, and Jason began to thrust hard and fast.  He felt Jason reaching his peak as Dick began to spasm and spurt his seed over his hand.  He clenched around Jason as he rode through his climax, and Jason gave a few final forceful thrusts that had Dick arching backwards, and then there was a hot wetness seeping down his legs.  

They collapsed in a tangle of limbs, Jason still buried inside him, still twitching slightly in lingering orgasm.  Dick curled and pressed his back against Jason’s chest so that he was being spooned.

He relaxed as Jason wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer.  Blearily, Dick glanced at the time.  They were going to be late for dinner, but he didn’t care.

He would suffer Bruce’s, and even Talia’s berating glare, but it was worth it.  

Jason was totally worth every second.

_End._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment and tell me what you think!


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